What I think is going to be an easy job assisting a glorified wench turns into a cluster f*ck of epic proportions.

Review by Wendy

Paisley – cool chick

Reese King – Greek godlike man

Bellini – wicked and bonkers beyond belief

The Olympic swimmer and the reality TV star, not really that far-fetched in this day and age of social media and reality shows. But is this a relationship of convenience to further their careers or true love? I’ll leave that one with you!

Reese, honed, tattooed swimmer and although he has created a rather cold persona for the press, he is underneath all that a sweet guy. Did I mention he is also an underwear model? Picture it, yeah, you with me now?

Bellini is what she is. To the world she is the reality TV star, perfectly styled, perfect relationship, perfect everything. But good lord is this woman a bloody cow. She is obnoxious, rude, self-centred and all round pure wicked, with a dollop of delusional thrown in for good measure.

Her inner thoughts are outrageous and what comes out of her mouth to those around that she considers beneath her, which is pretty much everyone, is beyond hateful. You’ll want to hate her, you will really try, but actually you find yourself amused by her and wondering what in god’s name happened to her to make her this way.

And then there is Paisley. She’s the beautiful cool chick you see at the beach or on the street, pulling off a certain style that you would love to be able to wear, but know you’d look complete tit trying. She is unique and even though her life has thrown her lemons, after wallowing in the lemon juice of life, she is now trying to make lemonade out of the situation and move on.

Meghan made a great job of the interactions between all the characters. Reese and Paisley were fun to watch, their obvious attraction is undeniable and yet Paisley knows her job depends on her remaining professional, but Reese is not making it easy for her.

Bellini is mad as a demented wasp and I spent a lot of time wondering where in the name of all things sane did Ms Quinn find this nutjob in her imagination. It begs the question what else is lurking in there!

Great, fun story, plenty of Bellini like drama and off the charts sexual tension.

Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if "It's Raining Men" starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.

Once she started commuting for an hour and twenty minutes every day to work for three years, she began to have conversations play in her head, real life, deep male voices and dainty lady coos kind of conversations. Perturbed and confused, she decided to either see a therapist about the hot and steamy voices running through her head or start writing them down. She decided to go with the cheaper option and started writing... enter her first novel, Caught Looking.

Now you can find the spicy, most definitely on the border of lunacy, kind of crazy lady residing in Colorado with the love of her life and her five, furry four legged children, hiking a trail or hiding behind shelves at grocery stores, wondering what kind of lube the nervous stranger will bring home to his wife. Oh and she loves a good boob squeeze!

Friday, 29 July 2016

Lola Durand and Demetri Cruz, are two strangers from the opposite side of the tracks. And when their worlds collide, they witness a brutal murder being committed by mafia leader, Los Rey. They join forces—determined to escape their lingering fate, leaving them with only one other option - to ride it out. Meanwhile, Los Rey and his crew are hot on their trail. They have nowhere to run; nowhere to hide.

How long will Lola and Demetri survive their one last ride?

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I placed my hands on my hips, tugging slightly on my bottom lip. “Need any help with the car?”

He stared at me a moment and furrowed his eyebrows together. He seemed to be thinking real hard as if I’d asked him a physics question or something. He cleared his throat. “Umm…no. I’m good. I’m particular about how I like my cars washed.”

I cocked my head at him. “Anal much.”

He started cracking up. “I had no idea you were into ass-play.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him in the chest as I walked past him. “Whatever, get your mind out of the gutter.” He continued to laugh as I went to sit on the sidewalk in front of the car. “You’re not particular about how people watch you wash your car, are you?”

He gave me a half smirk. “Matter of fact, I am.” He strolled over, and bent down in front of me; his lip still curled up. “You see…” He went about adjusting my arms as if he were a photographer, prepping his model for a photo shoot. “You need to have your shoulders back like this with your chest poked out.”

“Yes. Perfect. Now, what to do with these legs. Hmm…” He brought his hand to his chin to think. “Ah…yes. I think having them open like this would be best. His hands slowly traveled up my legs to my knees, pulling them apart. Him touching me ever so gently had my body tingling all over. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the surge flow heavily through my veins. But the sensation quickly died when he no longer had his hands on me. Opening my eyes, I frowned. He was at the hood of the car, working his arm in a circle to create a lather of soap.

I blew out a breath, continuing to watch Cruz work his way around the car. He was careful not to miss a single spot. His muscles bulged with every stroke. His skin glistened under the sun from water and sweat. I’d never wanted to lick a person so badly. It was pure torture. But, hearing Ariana Grande’s song “Sometimes” playing over the stereo momentarily distracted me from the torture I was forced to endure. And as I started to hum along with the lyrics, an idea popped into my head. When he had his back turned to me, I got up to turn up the volume, just enough to where he wouldn’t notice the change. I smirked as I slowly walked back over to him, swaying my hips, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. I began to hum louder, the closer I got, then I started softly singing along with the words as I gently swiped my finger across the back of his neck to get him to turn around.

His eyes grew wide. “What you up to, Blondie?”

I ignored him, took the sponge out of his hand and seductively squeezed some soap on to my chest, while I rotated my hips in time with the beat. His eyes followed the stream of soap as it made its way down in between my tits.

Yeah, I got you now. Two can play this game, but I always play it better.

He licked his lips, eyes hazy with desire. Soon after, I noticed he was breathing harder. So, I continued to lather myself with soap – singing, and dancing. Walking forward I bumped him with my hip to move him out of the way, to take this show of seduction to the next level – by using the car as my prop. My stage.

“Lola we really don’t have time for this.” He was barely able to get the words out. I had him falling deeper into my trance as each second passed.

I upped the ante, placing both hands on the car in front of me, I bent over and shook my ass around in a circle.

“Oh…damn.” I heard him say under his breath. And it gave me all the incentive I needed to move forward. Onto the car. I rolled my hips, licked my lips and whipped my head around, adding more soap to my body as I dipped backed onto the car. I caressed every inch of my body with the sopping sponge. I had the tent in his pants at its peak.

“Lola…please stop this.” He struggled with the words. From the pained look on his face, I could tell he was battling the urge. I wished he’d just give in.

Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ J. P. Uvalle is a beautifully twisted soul who has a passion for writing paranormal romance and has the divine ability to make the unbelievable, believable. She was born and raised in Colorado Springs, went to Bel-Rea Institute of Animal Technology and graduated with an Associate's degree in Applied Science and Technology. She works part-time as an ICU technician in Highlands Ranch, Colorado at an emergency/specialty hospital.

Aside from being a technician and a writer, JP runs two businesses in her spare time ~ Beautifully Twisted Publishing and Mary Kay. On top of that, she also contributes time to the Bookwhore Addict blog, and reviews books for BookSmacked.

When She's not saving lives, coming up with her next plot twist or making women feel pretty & pampered, she's spending time with family and friends. Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ

Tuesday, 26 July 2016

Natasha Carson doesn’t believe in fairytale endings. And she doesn’t want a Prince Charming. She had that with Christopher and look where that got her. Suffocating. Tolerating a respectable teaching position she never loved and lying to everyone about her true passion: writing smut.

So Natasha does the only thing she can. She leaves it all behind. The perfect boyfriend. The great job. New York City. Even the gorgeous grad student, Adam LaRue, who tempted her with sexual ecstasy and promises of making her every desire a reality.

As she explores the sex clubs of Berlin’s kinky underbelly, Natasha can’t help but wonder if she made a mistake. But when a chance encounter brings Adam into her life, she’s forced to confront her true feelings and deepest fears. With only a few days together, Natasha must make a choice: run away or relinquish control.

Katie Devoe grew up in New York City and has lived in Los Angeles, Madrid, and Barcelona. She’s worked as a barista, bookseller, cheese-maker and organic farmer. Her idea of a dream day is curled up in a cozy sweater, drinking Fortnum & Mason tea, and reading.

Natasha Carson’s life is perfect. She’s a respected novelist, the youngest fiction professor at a prestigious university, and every night she comes home to the perfect man who absolutely adores her. There’s only one problem. No one, not even her boyfriend, knows that she pens bestselling BDSM erotica in secret. And that’s exactly how she wants to keep it.

Then Adam LaRue enters Natasha’s classroom and her life, threatening everything. The gorgeous grad student isn’t just a kinky temptation – he knows her secret. And makes it clear that one way or another, he’ll have her in his bed.

As she watches her life crumble around her, Natasha must ask herself, Is it really as perfect as everyone believes?

The Professor’s Secret is an erotic tale of self-discovery and what happens when the line between fiction and reality blurs.